Solid Ground
by twin-v
Summary: Hermione travels to Australia on a search for her parents. Neville offers to accompany her and, much to their surprise, so does Draco. Written for the dmhgficexchange
1. Chapter 1

**A/N**: This fic was written for the Divine the Future with Draco and Hermione fic exchange at the dmhgficexchange LJ community.

Dedicated to floorcoaster, one of the most amazing D/Hr authors of this time. We love you and your fics! Thanks for the wonderful prompt

it was challenging but not impossible. We hope you like this! This exchange came at a rather busy time, so this fic has been edited by not one but 3 people- April, Wev, and Issa. Thanks very much, guys! They made this fic so much better than it originally was. Also, to zarah, sorry for the inconvenience thingy... you know. Hehe.

**Disclaimer**: Harry Potter and all other characters, etc. are property of J.K. Rowling.

**Solid Ground**

"_When I'm caught up in the darkness, it's your hand that's leading me.  
You bring me back to solid ground, you lift me up right here, right now."  
- Carrie Underwood (That's Where It Is)_

"Like your room, Granger?"

Hermione shut her mouth and turned to look at Draco, her brows knit in consternation. "Malfoy, this is too much. A three-bedroom suite in the most expensive wizarding hotel in Australia…" she trailed off as she took in the maroon and cream-colored drapes, king-sized bed, and mini-bar. "Who knows how long we'll be here?"

"Exactly. Who knows how long we'll be here? Could be months." He leaned against the doorframe and studied her. "Would you prefer a _two_-bedroom suite in the most expensive hotel in Australia? You'd get the couch, though. Or Longbottom would, if he's feeling gentlemanly."

"Malfoy!" Hermione felt a flash of irritation at the amusement on his face. "Maybe a different hotel, or a smaller suite?" she asked desperately. "We're here to find my parents, remember? We're not on a vacation. And no matter what your mother-"

"Just because we're not on vacation doesn't mean we can't be comfortable," he interrupted her, now looking annoyed. "And _we're_ paying for this trip, Mother said so. You wouldn't even have gotten to Australia if it weren't for me-"

"Oh don't make me feel indebted to you!" she said angrily, jabbing a finger at him, her temper flaring up. She, Neville, and Draco were in Melbourne, on a trip financed by Narcissa Malfoy, to find Hermione's parents. That his mother was paying for the trip was one fact Draco never stopped rubbing in. "I didn't ask for your help," Hermione continued. "Your family _offered._ I refused. But you persisted. If it were up to me you wouldn't be here."

"It's all _Mother's_ doing, Granger," Draco defended himself. "I'm only here because I wanted to get out of England for a change, to go on a trip. She's the one who wants to help you."

Hermione grit her teeth. "I'm not some charity case you Malfoys can take on to prove how reformed you all are."

"My father may think that way, but my mother doesn't. To her, there's a debt to be paid, and I'm paying it," he said firmly.

She shook her head. "I'm going to pay you back," she said firmly. "I've no idea how long it'll take, but I _will_ pay your money back, Malfoy."

Draco shrugged. "Fine. I'm not bothered by the money. Talk to Mother, owl her if you want." He straightened himself and turned to leave. "But we're not moving to a cheaper hotel or a smaller suite. This one is perfect. Let's discuss this in the morning, Granger. We've had a really long trip. And I've got to make sure Longbottom hasn't forgotten anything, like his _wand_, in London."

"Wait," Hermione called after him, wringing her hands anxiously. He turned back to face her, a questioning look on his face. When she was silent for several moments, he raised an eyebrow, and she blushed. "A-about the room. You asked if I like it, and I'm really sorry, but I don't."

His brows drew together, and he stiffened noticeably. "What's wrong with it?" he asked tightly.

"Nothing," Hermione said, dropping her gaze to the floor. "It's a fabulous room, I just don't like the colors."

"Red and cream?"

"Maroon, actually, but it's red enough for me. I don't like red," she stammered, forcing the words out.

"You got tired of your house color?" Draco asked disbelievingly. "I don't see why it's such a big deal, it's just a color. Or does it remind you too much of your precious Weasley family who forgot you?"

Hermione couldn't bring herself to feel angry at this insult towards her friends. She badly needed to change rooms. "I wasn't always like this about red. I know it's just a color, but I don't like looking at it. It gives me nightmares."

"Nightmares?" he scoffed. "That's a laugh, the Great Granger is scared of red."

"Yes, red," Hermione snapped, both angry and embarrassed that she had to explain herself. "The color of the Cruciatus Curse. When Bellatrix used it on me, all I could feel was pain, and all I could see was red. And sometimes at night my dreams turn red and I wake up screaming, already anticipating the pain." She stared at him, daring him to laugh at her. She could feel the heat in her cheeks and resisted the urge to look away from him.

"Oh." Draco fell quiet, the gleeful smirk gone from his face. "I thought maybe it was about your parents."

"It _was_ also the color of one of the spells I put on my parents. That's not the major reason it bothers me, it just adds to it." Unable to help herself, she averted her gaze and fiddled with the hem of her shirt. "Red doesn't bother me so much for small things, especially during the day, but I'll never fall asleep in a room decorated with red." She took a deep breath before asking, "can I get a different room?"

After a moment's hesitation, Draco sighed and shrugged. "Sure. Take mine."

"I'm sure Neville could give me his instead."

"No, it's fine. He's probably unpacked by now. My room's got no red anyway, it's more brown." He left the room with Hermione trailing after him. Within minutes they had transferred their luggage. Hesitantly, almost shyly, Hermione thanked Draco and bid him goodnight. Her head was spinning from exhaustion and lack of sleep- she took a shower, downed a potion to help with the time zone adjustment, marvelled at the wonders of magic, and climbed into the king-sized bed.

Before she fell asleep, she thought about the strange situation they were in. Never in all her years would she have imagined that she'd end up in Australia with Draco Malfoy, who was helping her search for her parents. She didn't want him around, and he definitely didn't want to be around her. He would never have accompanied her if Narcissa hadn't insisted when she found out about Hermione's sorry predicament.

The root of the problem, Hermione thought miserably, were Harry and Ron. After the war, the boys had been preoccupied. There had been Fred's funeral, along with various loose ends to tie up. It was quite natural that they'd be too busy to help her look for her parents. Hermione didn't need their _help_. At least, she thought she wouldn't, but as she soon found out, she needed money.

The search for the Horcruxes severely depleted her savings, since she financed the entire trip. In everything that was happening, Harry and Ron had forgotten that they needed to pay Hermione back. That money had been well spent, and she didn't like thinking that they needed reminding.

One afternoon, while Hermione was in the Ministry talking to the newly established Department of People Finding, she ran into Narcissa and Draco Malfoy. They were all queuing in front of the Billing Section, and it had been dreadfully awkward until Draco had asked her why she was there. Slightly frustrated by that time, Hermione ended up telling them how she was looking for her parents.

Hermione realized, with some surprise, that the Malfoys were not only accepting that she had done something so extreme as to modify her parents' memories, they actually _approved_ of it. Narcissa went out of her way to help Hermione get through the red tape in the Ministry, to get her parents' affairs back in order. And now Narcissa had supplied the funds, and her own son, to help Hermione locate her parents in Australia. Hermione initially refused the offer, not wanting to owe anything to the Malfoy family, but Narcissa persisted, saying that it was her way of apologizing for Hermione's torture in Malfoy Manor. When Hermione shuddered at the memory, Narcissa became even more adamant.

"Take it from the mother of a family lucky enough to escape the war intact," she said wistfully, "Muggle though your parents may be, they ought to know and be proud of what you've done in this war."

Neville, perhaps being more sensitive than Harry and Ron, or more empathic about the fact that her parents no longer knew her, offered to accompany Hermione on the trip. It seemed like an impossibility at first, since neither of them had much money. Neville couldn't ask for any from his grandmother, as Hermione had insisted they keep things secret for the moment. She knew that what she had done was highly controversial and had no desire of giving Rita Skeeter the pleasure of writing about it.

If it weren't for the Malfoys, Neville wouldn't be with her, and they wouldn't even be in Australia. She did owe them, and she was grateful. She just wished Draco would stop being such a prat. Although he wasn't nearly as cruel as he had been in Hogwarts, he did still tend to lose his temper and snark at the two Gryffindors. But Hermione supposed she could be a bit more tolerant, since he had given up his room, after all. She just wished she would find her parents and get the trip over with as quickly as possible.

It was almost ten o'clock the next morning when Hermione finally woke up. She still felt tired, but forced herself to get ready for breakfast. It was only when she left her room and was about to check on Draco and Neville that she noticed the envelope on the coffee table.

_Granger, Longbottom,  
I've gone to visit some friends of mine. Here are your breakfast vouchers. See you this evening.  
-Draco_

Feeling slightly annoyed that he had gone out to meet friends, Hermione grabbed her breakfast vouchers and crumpled his note. After all, he was supposed to _help_ her, not go gallivanting off with his friends. After everything he had said about paying a debt, she had thought he would at least have offered to accompany her as she looked for them.

She tiptoed to Neville's room and heard him snoring. She hesitated, wondering if she should wake him up, but then decided against it. He needed sleep. She left his vouchers on the table with a new note, explaining that Draco was off with friends and she would go to the Ministry after having breakfast.

She went to the Australian Ministry of Magic after a quick stop at her room after breakfast, and presented the letter Kingsley had given her. The Ministry didn't know where Monica and Wendell Wilkins were, but they promised her they'd look for them.

After she had finished her business with the Ministry, Hermione explored Melbourne a bit, keeping an eye out for her parents. All she knew was that they had gone to Melbourne - but Melbourne is a big place, and she had no idea where to begin looking. She wasn't even sure if they were dentists anymore, but she decided to look in the directory anyway.

She had no luck.

It was just going on six in the evening when she returned, tired and depressed, to the hotel suite. Draco was there, watching a Quidditch game on television.

"Did you have a productive day?" Hermione asked sarcastically as she trudged in, sneering at his comfortable-looking position on the couch.

"Unfortunately, no," he said, his eyes barely leaving the screen.

"Why, weren't your friends home?"

"They were. But none of them had any information on a Monica or Wendell Wilkins."

Hermione stopped and frowned at him. "I thought you-"

"I did." He finally looked at her, and smirked at her confused expression. "I didn't meet them for a reunion, Granger," he elaborated, switching off the television. "I wanted to ask them if they knew anything about your parents. One of them works in the Muggle News section of the Zodiac- their paper, you know- but he says he hasn't heard of them. He'll keep his eyes open though. And my other friend, who married a Muggle working in the tourism business, asked his wife – but she was no help. They could have used any one of several dozen tourist agencies. Seemed to think I was crazy for asking, especially since I couldn't tell him why I was looking for a couple of Muggles."

Hermione blushed. "I didn't know- sorry, I thought you were off… having fun."

He shrugged. "The sooner we get news on them, the better."

"Well, I didn't have any luck at the Ministry either. I'll go to the Muggle authorities tomorrow."

"I'll go with you."

"You don't have to, I can go with Neville."

"I've got nothing else to do."

She looked at him curiously, and sat down beside him on the sofa. "You really don't have to, Malfoy. You could just leave it up to Neville and me. Your mother would be none the wiser."

"Very Slytherin of you, Granger," Draco said, raising his eyebrows, "but Mother always knows."

Hermione laughed. "Sounds like my mum too. It's pretty unnerving sometimes."

"You shouldn't go around Melbourne on your own, you know."

"Why not?"

"Might get lost."

She laughed again. "Even if I do, I can always Apparate back to the hotel, it's easy."

"Longbottom got lost. He was walking around Melbourne for hours. He even reached some race track before he realized he could Apparate," Draco snickered.

Hermione giggled, and then looked at Neville's room guiltily. "He's like that, but he's really one of the best people I've ever met. So he's in his room?"

"Writing to his grandmother, I believe."

She grew quiet for a while, and Draco turned the television back on. They watched together in silence, until she turned to him and said, "Why are you doing this, Malfoy? Honestly. You _and_ your mother. I know your mother says she has some debt to pay, but I don't get it, and I don't accept it." She had had a lot of time to think things over, on her walk through Melbourne, and had always come back to the same question- why?"

He looked at her, then looked back at the screen. "I don't have to tell you, you know."

"True, but I'm asking nicely."

"Don't be such a Gryffindor. I'll tell you when- _if_- I feel like it."

"I think I have the right to know why you're with me, Malfoy."

"I'm with you because you need me, all right?" he said scathingly, making her cheeks burn with anger. "Because you're too damn _proud_ to ask your best friends for money; because you're too proud to ask them for help, to let them know that you actually _need_ them. You'd rather have Longbottom and you'd rather have me than talk to them and tell them what idiots they are."

"I know why I need you, what I want to know is why you're fulfilling that need!"

When Draco didn't seem inclined to answer, Hermione left him on the sofa and stormed into her room.

Truth be told, she didn't actually know why she gave in to Narcissa's offer. If her pride prevented her from asking Harry and Ron for help, why did she accept help from the Malfoys and Neville? She figured it had something to do with punishing Harry and Ron- she _did_ want to punish them for practically forgetting about her. They honestly shouldn't have to be reminded that she needed money and company to go to Australia.

She frowned, and took out her journal. Hermione always found that writing down her thoughts helped; it was to her what Pensieves were to other wizards. She began by writing down a detailed description of how she had spent her day, and then wrote about what her general plan was for finding her parents. Finally, she wrote down her questions and her doubts.

It was eight o'clock when Neville knocked on her door. "Hey, Hermione. Malfoy's asking if you have any plans of eating at all tonight."

"I'll just finish up," she said. "Where will we eat?"

"We'll find a place," Neville said. "Malfoy and I will wait for you in the living room."

"Wait, Neville-" Hermione stopped him. "What do you think of… of Malfoy? Do you two get along now, or what? Is it just me or…" She searched for the right words. "He just doesn't seem as…_ awful_ as he used to be. He doesn't seem like himself."

Neville chuckled. "He definitely isn't as horrible as he used to be, but I wouldn't say we get along." He shrugged. "Maybe we just need to get to know him more."

"Yes." She drummed her fingers on the table, lost in thought. She wondered if it was just easier to get along with the Slytherin when they weren't in Hogwarts, when they weren't with other people and other influences.

"He was pretty decent to me earlier, after laughing his head off that I got lost."

Hermione grinned. "Yeah, he found that hilarious. Tell him I'll be done in a minute, will you?"

"Sure thing." He closed the door, and Hermione hurriedly ended her journal entry and got ready to go out.

When she met them in the living room a few minutes later, Draco was scowling, and Neville was busying himself reading the newspaper.

"Oh good, you're out," Neville said, relief evident in his face. "Malfoy's been an absolute monster," he added in an undertone. "I wonder if he always gets like this when he's starving."

"Sorry for making you wait," Hermione apologized, feeling slightly guilty. "I lost track of time."

Draco just grunted and walked to the door, leaving the Gryffindors to follow.

"Where are we going?" Hermione ventured to ask as they reached the hotel lobby, and Draco headed towards the Apparation point.

"Merlin's Walk. We can Apparate there, and choose a restaurant. It's like Diagon Alley. I went there earlier."

"We can't Apparate there, we don't know the location!"

Draco sighed. "I'll guide you. Just fix your destination as Merlin's Walk, and I'll guide you." They arrived at the Apparation area and he looked at the two of them, as if deciding which one would be safer to touch. "Right," he said, reaching for Hermione's hand, "Granger, you take Longbottom."

"Why me?" she asked suspiciously, taking Neville's hand. "Why'd you pick me?"

"Because you're less likely to splinch yourself, and drag me into the mess," Draco said matter-of-factly. "All right, let's go."

The three of them turned, and appeared in Merlin's Walk. "So," Draco smirked as both Neville and Hermione gaped at their surroundings. Merlin's Walk seemed slightly smaller than Diagon Alley, but instead of being packed with shops, it was crammed with all sorts of restaurants. There were huge fancy restaurants, tiny delis, and even a few franchises Hermione had been sure were owned by Muggles. "Where do we eat?"

Half an hour later, they were sitting in Spacetaurant, a NASA-themed restaurant that was owned by a Muggle-loving wizard. He was obsessed with NASA and astronauts, spaceships and aliens. Draco was reluctant to go, but Hermione, guessing that neither boy had ever seen anything like a spaceship before, dragged them in.

"I tell you, Granger, I could refuse to pay for this, and then where would you be?" he asked crossly as he took his seat across from her. Neville sat down beside Hermione, looking in awe at the spaceship lamp that was dangling above their heads.

"Oh Merlin, Malfoy, don't lord that over me every time you pay for something. I'll pay you back, all right? And I _do_ have some money, you know." Hermione glared at him as she accepted a menu from the waitress.

"I just would _rather_ have gone to the more respectable Alton's."

"We can go there tomorrow. Besides, this is cheaper, I'm sure." Hermione placed her order, and waited as both boys placed theirs. She had decided to go slightly safe- Pisces and Chips didn't sound too bad, and one couldn't go too wrong with fish and chips. "And anyway, I can tell you all about how Muggles have reached the moon. Even wizards haven't done that! Albert Kolovich did try, but his broom would only take him as far as the stratosphere."

"I don't want to listen to your annoying voice the entire meal," Draco scowled. "I don't want to know about Muggles reaching the bloody moon."

"Then I'll tell Neville, and you don't have to listen. But you know, when Muggles see dragons- or rather, the fire of dragons in the clouds, they often mistake them for aliens."

"They're stupid," Draco snorted. "There's no such thing as aliens."

Hermione smiled slightly. "I know. It's quite funny how Muggles are so quick to say there's no such thing as a dragon, and yet they believe in aliens."

"Hm." It was the closest Draco would go to agreeing with her.

Their food arrived a few minutes later, and they spent the rest of the meal discussing outer space and flying. Their attention was drawn to a nearby table where a young boy was playing with a toy spaceship. He squealed happily when his mother levitated the toy and made it fly around him.

"So adorable!" Hermione murmured, watching the child with a small smile on her face.

"Makes me miss my childhood," Neville agreed wistfully. "It seems like everything changed so fast, but during the war it felt so long."

"It takes twenty years of peace to build a man, and twenty seconds of war to destroy him," Draco quoted softly, his eyes also on the young boy.

"If it weren't for the war, we'd be having this trip to celebrate leaving school, not to find my parents."

The three brooded silently for several long minutes, before Neville sighed. "It seems a bit unfair that some people got through the war without really fighting. People older than us, while the young ones like us and Harry, and even students younger than us had to fight." 

Hermione nodded, but Draco chuckled. "And here I thought Gryffindors never felt that way."

Hermione felt a flash of irritation at his attitude. "Will you stop saying things like that? 'That's so Gryffindor. Oh, how Slytherin!' You can't characterize people according to their houses. There's no perfect Gryffindor, or Slytherin, or Ravenclaw, or Hufflepuff. We're all combinations of each, and as we grow our friends from other houses influence us. It's not right to stereotype people according to their houses. I was almost sorted into Ravenclaw, or Slytherin, but in the end Gryffindor won."

Neville looked at Draco. "She has a point, you know. I'm part Hufflepuff, part Gryffindor."

"But there's a _reason_ you were both put into Gryffindor. It's that underlying factor, that predominant streak of some characteristic that is most likely courage," Draco argued. "I know one can't generalize people and make them into a single perfect Gryffindor, Slytherin, and so on, and there are traits that the members of each house have in common. Whether it's in that person before he or she gets to Hogwarts or whether it develops because it's expected of them, is subject to debate."

"But you can't keep saying 'that's so Gryffindor of you' for the rest of your life. Will we still be defined by our houses years and years from now?" Hermione asked.

"Unfortunately, yes. If one day you need help from a Gryffindor, mention you're a Gryffindor too and they'll jump to help you. Even adults judge people by their house in Hogwarts. Everyone made such a big deal about Dumbledore being in Gryffindor. When a person runs for Minister- take Fudge for example, a Hufflepuff- he proudly advertises that he was Hufflepuff and announces all the virtues Hufflepuffs are supposed to have."

"And if you mess up, even when you're much older, people will say, 'she's ruined the name of Gryffindor', or something," Neville added.

Hermione frowned. "That's not really fair, you know. I doubt my character was as much developed when I was sorted as it is now- if the Hat sorted me again I'm not sure I'd still be Gryffindor."

Draco shrugged. "That's the way it has always been, since Hogwarts was founded."

"Seriously though, prejudices can be overcome. I don't keep categorizing what you two do into whether it's Gryffindor or Slytherin. You can stop doing it too, Malfoy," she said earnestly.

Draco seemed to study her for a while, and she thought he was going to laugh at her. Instead, he said, "you're really intent on changing the Wizarding World, aren't you, Granger?"

For some reason, she blushed. "No. Well, there are _some_ things I'd like to change."

"If you keep at it, you'll succeed eventually," Neville said, and Hermione looked at him gratefully. Draco didn't say anything, but continued regarding her thoughtfully as they finished their meal.

"Do you two want dessert?" she asked the boys when they were done eating. "If Malfoy's willing to pay, that is," she added, teasing him.

"I'm stuffed," he patted his stomach. "Do _you_ want dessert, Granger?"

"How about we explore the Walk instead?" Neville suggested. "We can get dessert at another place."

She shrugged. "No, I'm fine. Let's explore."

They managed to walk the length of the Walk without getting into serious arguments. But as much as Hermione enjoyed their little excursion, her parents were always in the back of her mind. She felt restless, and although it was less than unlikely that they would be in a wizarding area, she still found herself looking around for them.

It was almost midnight when they returned to their suite. Tired but not sleepy, Hermione decided to take a long, hot shower. She was just toweling her hair when Draco knocked on the door. "Come in," she said, setting her towel aside and grabbing her hairbrush.

"Good, you're still awake," he said. His hair was still damp, and he smelled clean and fresh. "I was wondering if you had a recent picture of your parents. Since I'm going to go around with you tomorrow, I figured I'd better know what they look like. Keep my eyes peeled?"

"Oh, right," Hermione put down her brush and got out her wallet. "Here," she said, handing him a small photograph of her and her parents. "It was taken a few days before… before I did it." She swallowed.

He studied the picture, his eyes widening only the tiniest bit when he realized the images didn't move.

"I thought your mum had bushy hair," he said, after a moment.

"She had it straightened," Hermione explained. "I have no idea what her hair looks like now, though."

"With any luck, back to bushy. Much easier to spot, very distinctive," he said. Hermione wondered if he had always said his jokes that way, and she mistook them as insults, or if it was only recently that he began to tease instead of insult her.

"Yeah, we'd be lucky if her hair is big, since your eyesight is so poor," she returned, wanting to make a remark about his Seeking abilities but deciding against it. She tapped the photo with her wand, and a second copy appeared in his hand. "You can keep a copy, Malfoy." Hermione took one picture back.

"Is that- what's that?" Draco asked, frowning at the picture, and then glancing up at her throat. "Is that a necklace?"

"My parents gave it." She showed him the pendant that hung around her neck. It was in the form of a small red book, with the image of a wand on the cover. "It means a lot to me."

"I thought you didn't like red."

"I don't," she admitted, "but as I said, small things don't bother me so much, and I use it to remind me why I'm here, what I'm working for."

He scoffed. "You don't need a necklace to remind you to look for your parents, Granger."

"It doesn't remind me to look, it reminds me _why_ I'm looking," she snapped. "It has several meanings. It's got a wand on the cover, which shows that my parents really, _really_ have accepted the fact that I'm a witch. And it's red, for two reasons-"

"You're a Gryffindor."

"No," she waved the interruption aside impatiently. "My parents always said I'm like the color red - brave, passionate, and er-" she blushed, "loving. They say that when they see red, they remember me. And the second reason is because red is the color of love and they love me," she finished quickly, her cheeks flaming. "Lame, I know."

"Do you like being compared to the color you hate so much?" he asked curiously.

"I don't hate it, I just… I'm scared of it," Hermione said the last part with difficulty, her pride making her cheeks redden. "I used to love it. Now I…" she shook her head. "I know it's irrational."

Draco was silent for a while. "You wear it all the time? I never noticed."

"It's tucked under my shirt usually, but I put a protective spell on it so I never have to remove it even when I bathe." To distract herself, she studied the picture. "Sometimes I worry," she admitted softly, feeling the need to tell someone about her fear, "that I won't recognize them anymore."

"Don't be daft, Granger," Draco said brusquely, having no patience to deal with a female wallowing in insecurity. "Of course you'll recognize them, they're your parents. You've known them for eighteen years, for Merlin's sake. Not to mention you look enough like your mother to be her younger sister. I'm going to my room, all this indulging in self-doubt is bad for my ego." He left, and although she didn't want to admit that it was because of him, Hermione felt a little bit better.

The next day the three of them went around Muggle Australia, Apparating here and there; visiting the local officials. Hermione couldn't afford to be too inquisitive, because she didn't want to say the real reason she was looking for the Wilkinses, but she did ask about them in the British Embassy and the Australian Dental Association. No luck there.

Four days later, Hermione was beside herself with worry and regret. She didn't want to keep pestering Neville with her anxiety, and Draco's patience with her was already wearing thin.

"You're worrying again, aren't you, Hermione?" Neville asked one morning, entering the living room and seeing her staring listlessly out of the window.

She gave him a half-smile. "Sort of. But honestly, Neville, if you were my parents, would you forgive me? Would you still _love_ me?"

Neville sighed and sat down beside her on the window seat. "You know, Hermione, I used to ask myself that question a lot. Back when I was a student, when I was failing every subject except Herbology, when people would laugh at me for being such a… well, for being who I was. I would ask myself if it weren't better that my parents are insane, so that I wouldn't be an embarrassment to them, like I was to my grandmother."

"She wasn't embarrassed by you, Neville-"

"I thought she was, at the time," he said. "If she wasn't embarrassed, she was certainly disappointed. And I thought my parents would be too. Sometimes I'd think guiltily that I didn't want them to get better, because then they'd be disappointed in me too."

"Oh, Neville."

"Exactly." He looked sternly at her. "Do you see how stupid this is, Hermione? They're your parents, of course they'd love you. And you're definitely not an embarrassment, or a disappointment."

Hermione hugged him. "Thanks. I guess I needed to hear from someone else's point of view."

Neville shifted awkwardly, putting his arms around her. "I just wish you'd realize that what you did was for the best, and it'll turn out all right. And that your parents could never hate you."

"I know," she whispered, tears filling her eyes. "I just wonder if sometimes, it's me hating myself."

"Don't do that to yourself, Hermione. What use is it if everyone in the world forgives you, but you don't forgive yourself?" He patted her back soothingly. "Besides, you _have_ to get your parents back. Otherwise you'll have to tell Malfoy that he wasted thousands of galleons on nothing."

Hermione laughed. "You're right." She let go of him and wiped her eyes. "Thank you."

Often, though, she didn't want to burden Neville with her doubts, so to let out her feelings, she would take to her room and write in her diary.

_"What if the Death Eaters found them? I ought to have found a spell so I could trace them, but I felt bad enough altering their memories… I thought I'd have heard something of them by now. What if I can't get them back home by October? I have to go back for my last year at Hogwarts. Harry said in his last letter that they're rebuilding Hogwarts already, so it'll be ready for next term._

"I hope they're okay, really. I miss them so much- and I hope they won't be angry when they find out what I did. I wouldn't want anyone to modify my memory, but then again I'm not a helpless Muggle. Oh, that reminds me, Draco asked me earlier what an electric torch was earlier, said someone tried to sell him one and he almost hexed the man." 

Hermione paused and bit her lower lip gently. Draco was another topic entirely, one she didn't even want to talk to Neville about. She set her quill to the paper once more.

"Draco's been great, honestly. I didn't expect him to be so understanding, but he obviously tries to control his temper when my worrying starts to annoy him. He and Neville are actually getting along now. I didn't expect him to be like this. He's being so helpful. I remember what happened at his house, being tortured- and I looked at him then, wondering if he would help me, but he didn't. He wouldn't even look at me at first. But our eyes met once, and I thought he looked sorry. I had no sympathy for him then, of course- he had both his parents, he hadn't been tortured, and basically I thought his life was easier than mine. I found out later (from Narcissa) that it wasn't. At least my parents were relatively safe, whereas if Draco, or Narcissa or Lucius did anything that displeased Voldemort, one of them might have been killed. I can't imagine living with that responsibility. I suppose it taught Draco a lesson, somehow, about valuing his parents. Maybe that's why he's so sympathetic towards me."

A knock on the door interrupted her from her musings. "Granger?" Draco called softly, opening the door a little. He saw her at the desk and opened it further. "I thought you might be sleeping already. I got a letter from my friend who's in the Ministry- he gave an address we can try."

Hermione's heart froze. "Really? That's…fantastic," she said at last, closing her diary. Now that the news had come, Hermione wasn't sure she could face her parents after all, no matter what Neville said. As much as she wanted to see them, she didn't know whether she wanted them to see her.

Draco frowned. "Are you all right?"

Hermione nodded and took a deep breath. "I'm fine. Just emotional. Let's go and see them."

"It's rather late, isn't it?" Draco pointed out. "Can't we go tomorrow?"

"Malfoy, they're my parents. If our roles were reversed, they'd come to see me whatever the time, day or night. I'm going."

"I'm going with you," Draco said, although he was shaking his head. "It's bloody freezing out there. Longbottom's asleep, let's leave him- he gets whiny when he's cold." He gave her a rueful look and closed the door behind him.

Ten minutes later they were standing outside the Wilkins' house. Both of them were shivering. Draco glared at Hermione. "Let's go in," he said through chattering teeth. "It's bloody cold out here."

Hermione hardly felt the chill. She was more focused on the house and its occupants. After a few moments where she still didn't move, Draco gave her a little push. "All right," she muttered, forcing her stiff legs to walk closer to the house. Halfway to the front door she stopped and turned around. "Wait here," she told Draco. "I'm going to have a peek in the window, I think they're having a party."

She approached a window and peered inside, trying to stay hidden. Draco heard her give a soft exclamation, presumably when she saw her parents. For several long minutes she didn't return to his side. Realizing this could take longer than he had expected, he cast a Warming Charm and gradually felt himself stop shaking. By the time Hermione came back, he was feeling pleasantly drowsy.

"They do have guests," Hermione informed him, chewing once again on her lip, "and they look so happy. I'd like to go inside and speak to them…I miss them so much. Maybe I will."

"They're having a party, Granger." Draco noticed her shivers, even though she didn't seem to feel them herself. "They wouldn't want to be disturbed. Let's come back tomorrow. A few hours shouldn't make a difference. Besides, you're cold."

"But then I saw them, Malfoy," Hermione pleaded. "I want to go inside. Please. What if we wait for the party to end?"

Draco shook his head and gave her an incredulous look. "Are you crazy? It's winter here, in case you didn't notice! It may not be as cold as winter in England, but it's still cold! And besides, maybe you've forgotten, but they won't exactly be happy to let you in this late at night because- because of you- they don't know who you are! They'd be suspicious, because after all, you are a stranger to them."

Hermione felt as if he had slapped her. His words were true- she had made her parents forget her. On its own it sounded bad, and she wondered if her reasons justified it. Hermione thought they did, but she realized that it wasn't her opinion that mattered ultimately. It would be her parents' views on the situation that mattered.

"You're right," Hermione said in a strangled voice. She averted her eyes from Draco's and stared at the ground. "Tomorrow." She Disapparated with a crack, and by the time Draco realized she was gone and arrived back at the suite, he only saw her door closing behind her. With a sigh he retired to his own bedroom.

Hermione quickly removed her outer layers of clothing and sat at her desk. She opened her diary with trembling fingers, hoping that by writing down her feelings she would be able to sort them out.

"Even if my parents don't hate me for what I've done, will they stop trusting me? I told myself when I planned it that their safety was worth it, but I'm starting to think that I can't live with their mistrust and disapproval. It almost makes me not want to face them, which is awful of me. Neville says they'll love me no matter what, but I wonder if trust is a different matter altogether. Trust is earned, and broken. Love is born, or dies.

"They looked so happy earlier, part of me wonders if I should leave them as they are. Is reverting their memory back to normal just as bad as casting another modifying spell? I don't think so, but it still proves I have the power to change their memories. It's actually scary to think that I have that power- and not just me, but all other witches and wizards who can perform a complex spell like that. I wouldn't want my parents to be afraid of me. The part of me that wants to leave them as they are is the cowardly part, because I'm afraid they'll be mad at me when they find out. And if there's one thing I've hated ever since I was a kid, it's disappointing my parents."

Hermione only stopped writing when her tears made it impossible for her to read and see what she was writing. She changed into her nightgown, grabbed a box of tissues and slipped into bed.

Wrapping the blanket around her tightly, Hermione hugged a pillow and sobbed into it as quietly as she could. Hot tears poured from her eyes down her cheeks, and she was shaking so hard with suppressed sobs that the entire bed was trembling. She went through tissues at a rate that frightened her, but try as she might she couldn't stop crying. As soon as she would regain some composure, she would think of her parents and the tears would flow again.

The words she had written in her diary played over and over in her mind. Hermione shook her head in an attempt to clear it, and took several gasping breaths to calm herself down. It was to no avail.

I'm over-reacting, she tried to tell herself. Of course they'll still love me, even if they don't like what I did. I'm sorry I had to do it, but I don't think I'm sorry that I did it. So calm down, Hermione, and get some sleep. Draco and Neville will hear.

Hermione took a deep shuddering breath. In her haste, she had forgotten to place a silencing charm around her room, to avoid disturbing the boys. She groped for her wand and sniffled quietly, trying to concentrate on the correct charm.

Before she could cast the spell, there was a soft knock on her door. Hermione sighed and wondered who had heard her; she hadn't been able to concentrate anyway. Draco stuck his head around the door and peered at her through the darkness.

Hermione turned over to lie on her side, not wanting to face him. Soon she felt one side of the bed sag beneath his weight as he sat down beside her.

"It's okay, Hermione," he whispered. He tentatively patted her back and handed her several tissues. Hermione only cried harder, but this time she held him and he held her.

Now that Hermione had calmed down, she pulled away from Draco's embrace and wiped her eyes with a tissue. "This is really embarrassing," she managed to say.

"Why should it be? I understand why you're crying." Hermione raised an eyebrow, so he elaborated. "We saw them earlier, and you're frustrated that you couldn't fix their memories then, because I said it was too late, that we should wait for morning."

Hermione nodded slowly but averted her eyes, not wanting to meet Draco's gaze. "That's it, partly."

"Then what else? You can tell me."

"It sounds really silly, but I can't help thinking…that maybe they're happier," Hermione said softly, "as they are now." Draco tensed, immediately ready to refute her words, but she shook her head. "Hear me out. They can't remember the war, the worry, the pain of having a daughter who lives in a world they can't relate to."

"You can't seriously believe that," Draco said, taking one of her hands in his. It felt warm against her cold skin. "True, they'd remember all that, but they'd remember the good times too. Like maybe when they first found out that your mum was pregnant; when you were born; when you learned how to read, or when they heard year after year that you were top in your class."

"Stop," Hermione sniffled. "You'll make me cry again." She sighed, and squeezed Draco's hand. "You're right, I don't really believe that. It's more that I'm afraid…that they'll be angry at me. What if they didn't want their memories to be, well, edited? What if things aren't the same between us again after what I've done? What if they're afraid of me?"

"You just have to explain it," Draco said firmly. "Explain why you did it, how dire the circumstances were, and that you'll never do it again. And of course, how sorry you are you had to do it in the first place."

"It'll be hard, but you're right. I can't leave them as Monica and Wendell Wilkins forever. God, it was so hard to be near them, once I'd made up my mind. Even harder to face them and cast the spell."

"So this should be easier, right?"

"I don't know. It depends on their reactions. But I think it will be worth it to see them recognize me again."

"It will be," Draco promised. "Now go to sleep. Take a potion, if you'd like."

She sighed, suddenly exhausted. "No, I'm fine. I guess I just needed to talk…" She wiped her nose and Banished the used tissue into the bin. Her swollen eyes threatened to close, but she kept them open to watch Draco as he left the room. "Thanks, Malfoy. Thanks for listening."

And perhaps it was that she was so emotional, or that she was too tired to think straight, but the smile he gave her as he wished her goodnight made her heart skip a beat.

**Author's Notes:** The quote Draco said was from Baudouin I. :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Solid Ground Part 2**

All of Hermione's anxiety returned when she awoke only a few hours later. It was almost six in the morning, and much too early to be up, but she couldn't go back to sleep. She stared at herself for a while in the mirror after dressing. Her eyes were puffy, and her nose was a bit red. She hoped the puffiness would be gone by the time she went to see her parents, but it wasn't likely.

Near seven, Hermione went to the kitchenette to start breakfast. Neville appeared at half past seven, but it was almost an hour later when Draco joined them. Hermione felt slightly guilty, seeing the dark circles under his eyes.

"Are you ready?" Neville asked her quietly, just as they were about to leave.

"I don't know," Hermione said nervously. "I don't think I'll ever be ready, but I might as well get it over with."

"That's the spirit," Neville said encouragingly, and together, all three Apparated to the lawn.

As soon as they landed, Hermione felt frozen. A cool breeze blew around them, but it wasn't the cold that stopped her. She was filled with a sudden panic, and was seriously considering Disapparating, procrastinating, and finding some way to buy herself more time to think it over. "I can't do this," she muttered, her eyes wide with fear, her mouth dry. "I can't do this."

A sudden pressure on her hand made her stop, and she looked down. She gasped slightly, surprised to find Draco holding her hand.

He gave it a gentle squeeze and looked at her worriedly. "You _can_ do it," he said, pulling her forward and closer to the house. "Come on."

Hermione reluctantly followed his lead, strangely glad that it was Draco, not Neville, who was holding her hand. She found his touch comforting, in the same way that Harry and Ron's were. But it was different, because she and Draco weren't best friends. There was just something about the feeling that she couldn't put her finger on, but whatever it was it gave her the courage not to flee.

Once they reached the front door they all exchanged glances, and Draco understood that Hermione needed them to ring the bell. Just as he raised his arm to do so, she stopped him.

"Before we go in- thank you. Both of you," she said, turning to look at Neville as well. "Whatever happens from here on, you both have done your part. I'll be sure to let your mother know," she told Draco.

"I wasn't doing all of it for her," he replied simply. He abruptly rang the doorbell, leaving Hermione no time to figure out his words.

She held her breath, waiting. She had all but given up hope that anyone was home when they heard footsteps from inside the house. The lock turned, and the door opened.

"Yes?" the man asked curiously, looking at the three of them. He was tall and thin, with slightly thinning brown hair.

"Dad," Hermione breathed, drinking him in. He looked almost exactly the same as he had a year ago, and Hermione knew Draco was right- she would never _not_ recognize him. There were times she had seriously doubted that she would ever see him again, and to be so close to him again overwhelmed her. She gripped Draco's hand tightly.

"May I help you?" her father asked again, now looking annoyed.

"_Stupefy_."

Hermione gasped as a bolt of red light hit her father. She glared at Draco, who had caught him just before he hit the floor. "You Stunned him."

"Well, what was I supposed to do, Granger?" he snarled, his face turning pink with the effort of dragging Mr. Granger into the house. "You and Longbottom were just standing there gaping like a pair of trolls. Besides, no one saw, I checked."

"But the plan was to try and get in _without_-"

"Without the Stupefy, yes, but you weren't doing anything," he snapped. "Shut the door, Longbottom, it's freezing. And give me a hand here, levitate him to the sofa. Granger, get ready to Stun your mum."

Neville ushered Hermione into the house and levitated Mr. Granger, so that Draco didn't have to hold him. Hermione looked around, feeling relieved that Draco had control over the situation. When she heard her mother's footsteps on the stairs, Hermione was able to safely Stun and levitate her down.

"Small house," Draco whispered, when the Grangers were finally settled on the sofa. Neville went to the windows to close the curtains, in case any Muggle happened to look in and see Hermione waving a wand at her parents.

"No it's not," Hermione frowned. "It may not be as big as your manor, but this is comfortable."

"More like cramped," he said haughtily, as Neville grimaced over at the two of them.

Hermione walked away from Draco and looked around the room, trying to compare it with their old living room in England. "Oh God."

Because of the red curtains, which Neville had just closed, the room took on a reddish tinge. Hermione looked at her parents and saw them bathed in a crimson glow. She shuddered, remembering the brief look of surprise and betrayal on her mother's face before she succumbed to the Stunning Spell.

She turned to Draco and stumbled, feeling dizzy. She closed her eyes and images flashed before her- a flash of red before her parents stared blankly at her, not knowing who she was; the bolt of red light hitting her just before she felt indescribable pain.

Suddenly she realized that someone was shaking her. "Granger. Granger, are you all right?"

She opened her eyes, taking deep gulping breaths, and found herself face to face with Draco. His eyes were a scant few inches away from her own, and he seemed to block out all of the red. "You all right?" he asked again.

Without warning, Hermione felt tears leaking from her eyes. She shook her head and he sighed. "Come here," he pulled her even closer and she wrapped her arms around him, crying into him. "It's just a color," he said soothingly. "It brings back bad memories, but it won't hurt you."

"I know, that's why I feel so stupid," She sobbed uncontrollably, holding him tightly. Hot embarrassment flooded through her- why did she have to react that way to a color?

"You have to get over this before school starts, you know. I imagine the Gryffindor common room is filled with red."

"It is. I was hoping I'd be better by then. It's just that now, the memory is so fresh, seeing the red- seeing my parents- seeing you-"

"Me?"

She nodded. "You were there. But you didn't help."

His arms tightened around her. "I will this time," he promised. He held her for a few more moments before pulling away and handing her his handkerchief. "Here, wipe your face," he said.

Neville came into the room carrying a cup of tea. "Drink this, Hermione."

Gratefully, she wiped her eyes and nose and drank the tea. She realized the curtains were now pale blue. "Thank you," she told them. A few minutes later she felt much better, although still slightly foolish, and got out her wand.

"Do they have to be awake for you to fix- er, do the spell?" Neville asked, trying to be tactful, surveying the sleeping couple.

"Yes," Hermione said, steeling herself for the task ahead. The thought that her friends were with her did much to ease her nerves. She took a deep breath and nodded to Draco. "Go."

He lifted the spells, and Hermione got to work, putting her parents in a trance before they could fully wake up. The boys stayed quiet as she worked, not daring to move lest they break her concentration. Draco, standing a few feet behind her, could feel the energy that was going into each spell.

Finally, she stepped back and wiped her brow. "I think that's it," she whispered, running her eyes down her spell-list one more time. She licked her lips. "And now to wake them up."

"You can do it, Hermione," Neville murmured. Draco said nothing, but nodded. Hermione breathed deeply, and then said the final spell, bringing her parents out of their trance.

It was several long, painful moments before the Grangers moved.

"Hermione!" Mrs. Granger blinked and looked at her daughter. "What's going on?"

Mr. Granger was shaking his head, as if trying to clear it. "Where are we?"

"Mum, Dad," Hermione launched herself at them and hugged them. She kissed them both on the cheek, giddy with relief. "You're back."

"What's going on?" Mrs. Granger asked, patting her daughter's back and looking curiously at Neville and Draco. "I'm sorry, but do I know you?"

"I'll explain everything," Hermione promised, pulling back and straightening her clothes, beaming at her parents.

"Where are we?" Mr. Granger asked, still trying to process the many memories in his head. 

"In Australia," Hermione admitted. "Melbourne, actually. Oh, and this is Neville Longbottom, and that's Draco Malfoy- I think I've mentioned them before."

Mrs. Granger, who was always extremely interested in Hermione's life at Hogwarts, recognized their names immediately. She gasped and looked at Draco fearfully. "Are we being held hostage?" she asked Hermione in a whisper which unfortunately carried across the room.

Draco flushed angrily. "If I was holding you hostage I'd be pointing my wand at you," he said coldly, his voice tight.

Hermione's heart had dropped at her mother's question, but she glared at him "Draco," she said warningly.

Draco ignored her. "I haven't been hiding you, it's the opposite! I've been looking for you!" He strode over to the far end of the room and paced back and forth, trying to control his temper. Hermione hurried over to him before he broke something and grabbed his shoulders, pulling him down to her eye-level.

Neville, who had been watching the scene with as much surprise as the Grangers, decided it would be a good time to distract them with a story about Hermione's involvement in the war. Meanwhile, Hermione was talking rapidly into Draco's ear.

"I know they insulted you, but you have to understand that they don't know any better. We haven't yet told them anything about what happened during the war or after. I'm sorry if you think you've got a bad reputation with them, but you _were_ trying to kill someone in Sixth Year. Just give me a chance to explain everything, I'm sure their opinion of you will change, all right?"

Draco didn't move for a moment, and Hermione could feel the tension in his shoulders. "That wasn't nice of her."

"She's scared, please understand." After a moment's hesitation, Hermione felt him relax, and she was so relieved that she gave him a brief hug before returning to the sitting area.

She was surprised to see her parents looking at her curiously and Neville carefully avoiding her eyes. "What?"

The Grangers exchanged looks, and then Mrs. Granger spoke. "Are you two-?" She let the question hang but glanced at Draco, her meaning all too clear.

"No!" Hermione said instantly. She honestly had never thought of Draco in a romantic way before, and was surprised that her parents would think that of her and him. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes, somehow not entirely shocked by the fact that her parents were more interested in her having a possible relationship than the fact that they were in Australia. 

Her parents nodded, not looking perfectly convinced, but Hermione sat down and proceeded to tell them everything. It took her the better part of an hour, but finally she reached the end of her story. "And Neville and- and Draco came with me to help find you guys, and now you're back to normal." Her voice trembled slightly. She had cried at several points in her story, but now she looked at her parents hopefully, searching for signs of forgiveness.

Mrs. Granger was upset. "I can't believe you removed our memories," she said, clutching her husband's hand tightly. "I feel… violated." She refused to look at her daughter.

Hermione's shoulders sagged, and her eyes stung with tears. "I'm really sorry, Mum. I didn't want to do it, honestly. But I had to. I had to make sure you'd be safe."

"We could have lost you." Mrs. Granger's voice trembled, and Hermione felt even worse. She hated seeing her mother cry.

"But you didn't. And I made sure that even if I did die, you wouldn't remember me… so you'd be happy."

Mrs. Granger didn't seem at all comforted by this knowledge. Mr. Granger put his arm around his wife. "That was… nice of you, Hermione," he said, in a tone which implied he didn't think it was nice at all.

"We wouldn't have even been able to go to your funeral," Mrs. Granger said softly.

"But she didn't die," Draco pointed out impatiently. "So there's no use being nostalgic about a funeral that didn't exist. Now _your_ funeral, that's what she was trying to avoid. You should be grateful."

"Draco!" Hermione hissed, shocked at the way he spoke to her mother. He looked at her almost apologetically, and didn't say anything more.

"I am grateful," Mrs. Granger said angrily, "but Hermione, you should have come to us. Your father and I would have figured out a way, a different way, something that didn't involve magic and something that involved our consent!"

"You don't _know_ what it was like, Mum! You don't know what they would have done to you," Hermione cried. "It was the only way that would have worked, believe me. The Ministry wouldn't take care of you, the Order had enough on their hands, too much to guarantee you'd get maximum protection, and Muggles don't know how to protect themselves from magic!"

"But why couldn't we have retained our memories while pretending to be Monica and Wendell?" Mr. Granger asked.

"Because then you'd live in constant fear and anxiety," Hermione said, exasperated at having to explain things a second time to her normally sharp-witted parents. "I told you, I wanted to make you happy."

Mrs. Granger pursed her lips. "I still can't believe magic can do all that," she said finally. "I can't believe _you_ would do all of that to us. Nothing gives you the right to alter a person's memories! Answer me one thing, and answer me truthfully- how many other times have you modified our memories to suit your purposes? How many times have you used magic to get away with things?"

Hermione felt like she had been slapped. "This was the first and last time I've ever used magic on you," she said honestly, her voice shaking. She wiped her eyes. "And I've never used magic to hide things from you."

Mrs. Granger looked searchingly at her daughter. "I don't know if I can believe you," she said softly. Hermione buried her face in her hands, crying harder.

Draco stood up angrily, but Hermione shook her head. "Don't, Draco, she's right. They can't trust me anymore."

"That's crap, Hermione. You saved their lives, they can trust you with _their lives_," he said furiously, casting a murderous glare at her parents. 

Neville spoke. "Maybe it would be best if Draco and I left. Please, Mrs. Granger, we were thinking that maybe Hermione could spend the night with you. We've been staying at a hotel, but we thought that since she's found you again, she could stay with you so you three could catch up." He rubbed Hermione's back soothingly, and her tears subsided into sniffles as she waited for her parents' verdict.

Mr. and Mrs. Granger looked at each other. "It's up to you, dear," Mr. Granger told his wife.

Mrs. Granger sighed and rubbed her forehead. "I think… no, I think it would be better if you stayed over on a different night," she said, looking remorsefully at her daughter. "Your father and I need to talk things through, and to decide what we'll do next. And I- I honestly don't know if I can trust you right now."

"But everything's done!" Neville protested, feeling Hermione stiffen beside him. "What's next is that you'll return to England, back to how things were before, we've fixed it all up."

"We might decide not to return to England," Mr. Granger said quietly, looking at Hermione and making it clear that the decision had something to do with his daughter.

"Come on," Draco said, roughly pulling Hermione up. "Let's go back to the hotel. You don't need this." Neville followed, taking her other arm. Together, they Apparated back to the hotel.

Hermione walked quickly through the lobby, her head ducked to avoid the stares of passersby. Neville murmured encouraging words, but she barely heard them. As soon as they arrived in their suite, she ran to her room and collapsed on the bed.

"They hate me," she sobbed, punching her pillow. "They hate me! I shouldn't have- I shouldn't have-" she broke off, unable to continue, and struggled to breathe.

Alarmed, Neville ran to get her a Calming Draught. "Drink this, Hermione," he said when he returned, helping her sit up. "You'll cry yourself sick."

She drank the potion with some difficulty, but gradually she relaxed and breathing got easier. "Harry and Ron," she croaked, her throat already sore. "I need Harry and Ron."

"I'll try to reach them," Neville offered. "All right? Just calm down a moment." He handed her a box of tissues and went to use the fireplace.

Left to herself, Hermione realized that she felt lonely. Harry and Ron were on the other side of the world, and they couldn't really help her. She had been wrong when she thought she needed only their money. She needed them. Her parents didn't trust her, and perhaps didn't love her anymore. All she had was Neville, who was nice in his own way, but he was never one of her best friends. And Draco, who was-

"Where's Draco?" she wondered aloud, suddenly realizing he wasn't with them. She couldn't remember when he had last been with them.

"What?" Neville asked, coming in to the room. "They went to visit George," he reported. "Mrs. Weasley is on the line, if you want to speak to her."

"Where's Draco?" Hermione asked again, looking around.

Neville shifted uncomfortably. "He stayed behind. When we were about to Apparate, he looked at me and let go of your arm. I figured he wanted to talk to your parents alone. Will you talk to Mrs. Weasley?"

She shook her head. "I just want Harry and Ron. Tell her to tell them it didn't work out, and I'll write to them when I can."

He disappeared into the living room, and Hermione lay back, the Calming Draught kicking in full-force. Her gut-wrenching sobs dwindled to hiccups, and she felt drowsy. She hoped Draco wouldn't scare her parents too much, but at the same time she felt she couldn't care less what he said to them. Hermione realized with a sinking heart that maybe her parents weren't as wonderful as she had previously thought they were. It was a painful revelation, to find out that they weren't perfect.

When Neville came back, she asked him for a decongesting potion. "Thanks, Neville," she said when he returned. "Draco isn't back yet?"

He shook his head. "It's only been less than half an hour."

She sighed. "Can you wake me up when he comes?"

"Sure thing."

Exhausted, Hermione tried to smile and went to sleep. The next thing she knew, someone was leaning over her.

"I don't know if we should wake her up," she heard Neville say. "She looks worn out."

Draco's voice sounded much closer. "But she asked you to, didn't she?"

Hermione opened her eyes and was relieved to find Draco perched beside her on the bed. "You stayed behind," she accused, suddenly remembering why she wanted to see him.

He grinned. "Very perceptive."

She glared at him, knowing the effect was somewhat ruined by her puffy eyes and messy hair. "Well? What did you say to them?"

"This and that. But the main thing is, they're sorry. They're still a little wary about magic, but they'd like you to spend the night at their house."

She sat up excitedly. "Really?"

He nodded, and she gasped delightedly. "Draco Malfoy, you are amazing!" she crowed. "How did you do it? You didn't threaten them, did you?"

"No, I just spoke to them. Made them see what the war was like. Made them see what happened to _my_ family," Draco said grimly, sitting next to her on the bed.

"Oh, Draco…"

"They needed to understand just how hard it was on us 'kids'. We couldn't just go running to our parents especially when they were the ones we were trying to protect. Your parents had no idea what it was like for me, knowing that if I made one wrong move my parents would be killed. And it was hard for my parents too, since they were responsible for my life. It wasn't easy to make the decisions we did, and it was harder to stick to those choices."

"And how did- how did they react?"

Draco rubbed his face tiredly. "It was a long conversation, but they want you to stay with them again, if you're not too angry."

"I'm not angry!" Hermione exclaimed. "I thought they were angry at me."

"I think you _should_ be," he said decisively. "After what they said- they're your parents, after all."

"Maybe I should be, but at the moment I don't care. I'm just happy that they're safe, and I'm safe, and we can be together again." Hermione beamed at Draco. "I can forgive them for this, Draco. But- they didn't invite you and Neville to stay too?"

"They did, but I insisted we'd only be in the way. We'll have dinner with the three of you tonight, though." He stood up. "So there you have it."

"I take back every awful thing I ever said about you," she said, her eyes dancing.

"Oh? Like what?"

"That you're foul and pathetic. Honestly, I could kiss you right now."

"I'm always open to kisses."

"I was just joking," she said, her eyes wide.

He chuckled softly. "So was I."

Reaching out, Hermione caught Draco's hand. "Thank you so much."

He simply looked at her and nodded. "You'd better get packing," he said, turning around and heading out the door.

At dinner it was decided that Hermione would remain in Australia with her parents for an extra month, because everyone agreed she needed a vacation. She conceded, since school was starting a month late while the castle was being repaired. Draco and Neville were to fix up the loose ends in Melbourne. Hermione didn't want to impose on them, but they insisted.

Since Hermione had only packed for one night, she returned to the hotel the next day to pack the rest of her things. She was only half done with her packing when there was a soft knock on the door. "Come in," she called, and Draco poked his head into the room.

"Done yet?" he asked.

"No," she replied, "still lots to do." She gestured at the clothes, books, and other various objects on the bed.

"Mind if I stay for a bit?" Draco asked, opening the door wider.

"Not at all," Hermione said absently, folding some jumpers. "Have a seat."

Draco perched on the chair by the desk. He watched her fold her clothes for a few moments. "Why don't you use magic? You're not scared of it now, are you?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, but I don't want to use it if I can do something otherwise- especially around my parents. It might frighten them."

"Are you guys all right now? Are you all right?"

"We've been better," Hermione answered slowly, wondering at Draco's concern. "They're a bit distant, a bit cold. I try not to mention magic around them. They don't trust me. And after all I've done, I'm not surprised."

"They just feel a bit betrayed. Their little girl got one over them, went off to battle, and left them helpless. They'll come around."

"Neville says you're going back to England ahead of us."

"I'd rather catch the summer there while I can."

"When are you leaving?"

"I don't know. Maybe in a few days. Not immediately, if that's what you're wondering. Unless you want me gone, that is."

Hermione closed the lid on her suitcase. "Of course not." She turned around to face him, feeling oddly shy and nervous. "Draco, I want to thank you. I know I haven't been the easiest person to be with these last few days, but you've been wonderful. You've helped me more than I expected. I don't know how to pay you back." It was true. She hadn't realized how much of a help he had been, how much his support had meant to her.

Draco nodded curtly. "You're welcome, and you don't have to pay me back." He stood and grabbed her suitcase from the bed. "Come on, your parents will be waiting back at the house."

He seemed impatient for her to leave, and Hermione had no idea why. She meekly followed him into the living room and to the fireplace. "I'll see you tomorrow, right?"

Again, Draco gave a sharp nod. Neville came out of his room to say goodbye. "See you tomorrow at breakfast!"

Neville correctly predicted the arrival of the Hogwarts letters, which came the next day. Hermione scanned through the list of required books and skipped to a separate page. "Oh." She didn't finish reading the rest of the letter but sagged in her seat with her face in her hands.

"What's the matter?" Mr. Granger asked.

"I- I didn't get Head Girl," Hermione muttered, her voice muffled by her hands. "It went to someone who didn't skip last year."

Hermione's parents and Neville gathered around her, trying to console her, saying that it was just a position anyway and that Hermione was mature enough to give up the position even though she knew she also deserved it. Their conversation stopped when Draco threw the crumpled up letter down on the table.

"Stupid," he pronounced. "Who cares if you missed a year of school? You're more deserving than anyone in our year, and anyone in the year below us. And so what if she's had perfect attendance every single day of every single year? Did she save the Wizarding world from the Dark Lord? I don't think so!"

His outburst seemed to cheer Hermione up. "Thanks, Draco. I needed to hear that."

"Don't you have a letter, Draco? Neville and Hermione got theirs."

Draco shook his head. "I won't be going back to Hogwarts. I didn't miss too much, so Mother's hired a private tutor for me, and I'll take the NEWTs with everyone else."

"You aren't going back to Hogwarts?" Hermione asked, surprised. She hadn't thought that he wouldn't be in her year anymore. "It'll be strange, not having you around."

He shrugged. "It was strange not having you around too, last year. You'll get used to it."

"You will write, though?"

"I suppose," he shrugged again, looking slightly bewildered at her request. He shot Neville a confused glance, but the other boy just smiled.

Five days later, Hermione Apparated into the hotel to say goodbye to her friends.

She and her parents were going to Sydney for a few days, before continuing their tour in other parts of the country. Draco and Neville were leaving Melbourne a few hours after the Grangers.

The boys weren't in the living room, but she heard voices coming from Neville's room, so she headed there. For some reason, they hadn't heard her key in the lock, and continued their conversation oblivious to her presence.

"-just friends, I swear," Neville was saying as Hermione drew closer.

"But they kissed," Draco said, sounding disbelieving.

"Just once, and what with everything else going on, they didn't have time to think of a relationship." Hermione paused outside the door, wondering who they were talking about. Neville went on: "You know that she's a bit miffed at him for not helping her out with this Australia thing."

"He can't afford it anyway."

"True, but it's the thought that counts, at least to her. I'm sure it's somewhat changed her feelings towards him. Why so curious?" There was a smile in Neville's voice.

"I think you know, Longbottom," Draco said, sounding irritated. "I don't need to say it aloud."

Hermione decided to interrupt before she heard anymore. She had a feeling that the conversation wasn't meant for her ears. She stuck her head around the door and smirked when Draco visibly jumped.

"Did I startle you?" she asked, smiling slightly and trying not to look like an eavesdropper.

Draco glared at her, but Neville gave her an uncomfortably forced smile. "Hermione! Didn't expect you to drop by."

"I've come to say goodbye. And I really can't thank you enough," she said shyly, realizing she was going to miss them both. "Really, for everything- for all your help, and your comfort."

"And my money," Draco reminded her, grinning.

"Yes, your money," she agreed, rolling her eyes. "Must you ruin a moment like this with a joke like that?"

"Moment like what?" he asked, feigning innocence. "Anyway, I don't want to hear your sappy thanks and fare-thee-wells, Granger. Just say goodbye and we'll be done with it."

She scowled at him. "Why don't _you_ just say goodbye and walk away?"

"Because we're not leaving for another three hours. Or maybe I was wrong, maybe I _do_ enjoy hearing your heartfelt words of gratitude and praise. Just don't ruin it by crying."

"Hmph." Hermione crossed her arms across her chest and looked haughtily at him. "Fine. Malfoy, goodbye. Thanks for your help, it was much appreciated."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Very nicely done, Granger. I'd almost believe it except for one thing."

"What's that?"

"You sounded too angry. Try saying it with a grateful tone instead."

Hermione gritted her teeth. "You are still the most insufferable prat I've ever met," she told him.

"He's just teasing, Hermione," Neville said, chuckling. "Calm down. He's probably as sorry as you are that we have to leave."

"That is the stupidest thing I've ever heard, Longbottom," Draco drawled, sending Neville a glare. "Hurry up and say your goodbyes, so your parents aren't kept waiting." Draco and Neville had said goodbye to the Grangers at a dinner the night before.

Hermione hugged Neville tightly. "Thanks again," she whispered. "If you see Harry and Ron, don't mention Draco, all right? I'll tell them when I'm ready."

"Sure thing," he said, hugging her back. "Have fun. See you when school starts."

She stepped back, surreptitiously blinking away tears. "Draco, wait. I wouldn't feel right without saying a proper goodbye."

He smirked. "All right, say it."

She hesitated, wanting to hug him, but not sure if it was the proper thing to do. They weren't exactly _that_ close, and though she had hugged him several times since they had arrived in Australia, she always worried that it made him uncomfortable. She looked at him uncertainly, and he solved the problem by stepping up to her and wrapping his arms around her.

"Do you always have to worry about every little thing?" he asked softly. "If you wanted a hug, you could have just said so."

She held him tightly, dimly realizing that it was a perfect fit, her forehead resting just at the place where his neck met his shoulder. "Will I see you again?"

"Probably. The Wizarding World isn't that big."

"I'll miss you," she admitted.

It was a moment before he replied. "I'll miss you too." He stepped back and looked at Neville. "What are you staring at, Longbottom? If you're waiting for a group hug, you're going to be sorely disappointed."

Neville just grinned and shook his head. "Wish I had caught that on camera," he chuckled. "Okay, Hermione, not that I want to get rid of you, but the sooner you leave, the sooner we can pack." Hermione bid them goodbye once again and Disapparated, wondering all the while if Draco had been sincere when he said he would miss her, or if he simply said it because it seemed the appropriate response. She felt slightly giddy, although she didn't know why.

Australia was different without her friends, she soon discovered. Although she enjoyed the time spent with her parents, and enjoyed the feeling of being relatively free from worry, she missed them. She missed Draco in particular. She was closer to Neville, but he was quieter, and he usually agreed with her. Draco, on the other hand, challenged her at practically every turn, teasing her and happily pointing out each and every flaw in her logic. Conversations with her parents were all well and good, but there was a different spark to her conversation with Draco. She hated to admit it, but she was getting slightly bored without him.

He wrote to her, updating her on the things he and Neville had promised to take care of. Sometimes it took days for the letters to reach her, and she found herself waiting for them.

After a month of traveling, it was a relief to finally return home. Their house was just as the Grangers left it, and in many ways being back at home was more relaxing than being away from it. Her school supplies had been delivered, and Hermione had a few precious days to enjoy being home and to read her schoolbooks before returning to Hogwarts.

On the first of October, exactly a month after Hogwarts normally opened, Hermione and her friends arrived at the school. Both the war and Australia seemed so far away, and they looked forward to having a normal year for once.

Hogwarts was different for the trio- it had been their first welcoming feast without Dumbledore; the seventh year was larger than before; certain parts of the castle were still off-limits; there were more ghosts; and the Slytherins were nowhere near as arrogant as they had been before. Harry, Ron and Hermione were as close as before, except that Harry spent a bit more time with Ginny, and Ron and Hermione knew that they were better off as friends. But although the year of Horcrux hunting had brought their friendship to a new level, Hermione couldn't bring herself to tell her best friends about Draco. Being with them again made her feel slightly ashamed that she had been too proud to ask them for money, and she felt foolish that she had wanted to punish them over something so trivial.

She would write to Draco sometimes and would receive infrequent replies. Eventually she decided that their friendship in Australia had no place in Hogwarts, not with NEWTs, schoolwork, and other friends getting in the way. Neville himself said that he and Draco didn't bother keeping in touch.

It was already the middle of November when Hermione was forced to tell Harry and Ron about Draco. They had somehow heard- from Mrs. Weasley, who had heard from Mrs. Granger- that Draco had been in Australia with Hermione, and neither boy was pleased.

"Yes, Ron, it is true," Hermione said calmly, although her heart was pounding, her ears roaring, and her cheeks flaming. This wasn't the way she had wanted them to find out. She rearranged her parchments, hoping to buy some time. "He helped me look for my parents. I'm very grateful to him."

Harry frowned. "But why? Why him? After what happened last year, after what happened in his house-"

"He and his family offered to help me when I needed it," Hermione said in a low voice, looking at the other people in the common room. She hoped her friends wouldn't start shouting. "Look, I'll tell you everything, but first tell me why you're so upset."

Ron spluttered. "Well- because it's Malfoy! You never mentioned anything about going to Australia with Malfoy! What if you needed help? What if you needed protecting?"

"It's more the fact that you never told us, Hermione," Harry added. "We trust you, we know you can take care of yourself, but- why didn't you tell us?" he asked, sounding slightly frustrated. "You told us Neville was with you, but you didn't mention Malfoy. If you needed us, you could have asked, instead of asking him." He paused. "You did ask him, right?"

"Actually, he offered." Hermione took a deep breath and began to tell them everything.

When she had finished, both boys were speechless for several long moments. "I'm sorry, I did want to tell you, eventually. But the time was never right, I was afraid of how you'd react," she said, looking at them tearfully.

"You should have told us, Hermione!" Ron said explosively, looking furious. "You should have asked!"

"I know I should have, but you should have remembered!" Hermione snapped defensively, now feeling angry.

"Damn it, Hermione, you know us," Ron said. "We're not exactly the most sensitive people, but we'd have been there if you wanted us."

"And Malfoy- I wrote you several letters while he was there, and you never even said he was with you!" Harry looked hurt.

"I knew you'd be mad. I knew you'd be so worked up on the fact that it was _Malfoy_, you wouldn't even be sorry you hadn't thought of offering yourselves." She glared at her friends. "But he helped me. Honestly, he made my life so much easier. He was my rock, I don't know how I'd have gotten through it all without him. Look, it's over with. Maybe it's all our faults. I'm sorry I didn't tell you, so can we please put this behind us? It's stupid. Ask Neville- Draco's a better person now."

There was silence as the boys struggled with themselves.

"We _are_ sorry, Hermione," Harry said finally, looking at Ron, who nodded. "We were just shocked. And… it's Malfoy."

"Yeah. I could have asked George for a loan so you wouldn't have had to go with him," Ron added. He looked guilty.

"We'll pay you back now, though," Harry said firmly. "Well, not _now_ now, but soon."

"Thanks. I don't really need the money anymore… but I'll use it to pay back Mrs. Malfoy." Hermione smiled at them, relieved that everything was finally out in the open. She knew that perhaps Draco would have wanted her to be angrier, but it didn't signify. She had carried the resentment for so long and it had worn her out; now she was perfectly willing to let it go.

Christmas break was a welcome relief to Hermione, who wasn't enjoying the new Hogwarts as much as she had enjoyed the old. She said goodbye to Harry and Ron at King's Cross, handing them each a schedule of NEWT revision to be strictly followed, and got into the car with her parents.

She was relieved to find that all anxiety about her had disappeared from her parents' minds; she had been worried that her two-month absence would widen the distance between them again. But her parents treated her like they always did, warning her not to study too hard, because it was the holidays after all.

Mrs. Granger stopped by her room the night after Hermione returned home to catch up with her daughter. They spoke for a long time, about school, Harry and Ron, Neville, and inevitably, about Draco.

"I've been thinking," Mrs. Granger said, "about why he changed. Aside from the war, I think a big reason is you."

Hermione blushed, and hoped her mother didn't see. "Me?"

"You needed him. Based on what you've told me about him, I don't think anyone's ever needed him like that before. You needed him to be a source of comfort, your shoulder to cry on."

Hermione fidgeted uncomfortably. "I think I annoyed him."

Mrs. Granger shook her head. "Maybe sometimes, but not all of the time. I think he reveled in the chance to be something different to someone. He did rise magnificently to the occasion."

"True." She sighed and rolled over on her back, staring up at the ceiling. "He doesn't write to me anymore, though."

"Really?" Mrs. Granger looked thoughtful. "He probably needs time to sort some things out."

"What sort of things?" Hermione asked rather crossly.

"I'm sure I have no idea," her mother said innocently. Then she deftly changed the topic to the Weasley family.

On the day before Christmas, Hermione was helping Mrs. Granger prepare their lunch when the doorbell rang.

Hermione was helping her mother prepare their lunch on the day before Christmas when the doorbell rang.

"Could you get that please, Hermione? I think our guest is here." Mrs. Granger glanced at the clock and smiled with satisfaction. "On the dot, as usual."

"Guest?" Hermione asked curiously. "I didn't know we had a guest. Who is it?"

"You'll find out if you get the door," Mrs. Granger smiled mysteriously.

Feigning irritation, Hermione huffed and stomped to the door. "Just a sec!" she called, as the doorbell rang again. Quickly, she unlocked the door and pulled it open. Her jaw dropped. "Draco!"

He smirked at her, his cheeks and ears tinged with pink from the cold. "I take it your parents didn't tell you I was coming."

"No, they didn't." Hermione turned and scowled in the direction of the kitchen, but a smile broke out on her face again. She was still slightly annoyed at him for not replying to her letters, but decided to forgive him in the spirit of Christmas. "Anyway, how have you been?" she asked, letting him in and waiting for him to take off his coat. "I haven't heard from you in ages. I thought you'd forgotten us."

He coughed, looking slightly embarrassed. "I've just been busy." He hung up his coat and graced her with a large smile. "How have you been? The Head Girl still getting to you?"

Hermione tried to smirk, despite feeling her legs turn to mush at his smile. She frowned mentally- what the hell was wrong with her? "Martina stopped being so cocky after I found her trying to sneak in to one of the off-limits sections, the one just off the entrance hall. Construction is still going on there, but students like to use those places to… well, you know. Same as ever."

He chuckled. "Did you turn her in?"

"Sometimes I find blackmail more effective," she grinned.

"Really?" His eyebrows rose, and he looked at her appreciatively. "Well done, Granger."

She blushed. "Well, I didn't really blackmail her, although I could have. I just told her that I wouldn't tell anyone, but if she wasn't careful I might accidentally let something slip."

They walked into the living room, and Mrs. Granger appeared from the kitchen. "Right on time, Draco," she said, waving at him. "Make yourself comfortable. Hermione, just stay and catch up with Draco, we're about done here anyway."

"Thanks, Mum." Hermione sat down beside Draco on the sofa. "Have you visited my parents before?"

"A few times. There were some things that had to be taken care of, some papers that the Ministry wanted signed, since they're Muggles and all."

She remembered something. "Oh, Draco, I… told Harry and Ron about how you went to Australia with us."

"I know, they sent me a thank-you card," he snickered.

She stared at him. "Really?"

He laughed out right. "No, not really. Although Longbottom wrote and warned me that they were taking it extraordinarily well. He said I should expect either a Howler, in case it was a ruse, or a thank-you card, since they seemed so guilty that they had forgotten to take care of you. Fortunately, I got neither."

"Right. But you got my letters, right?" Hermione asked her question in a casual tone, although she was blushing slightly. "It's just that you didn't reply to the last two."

"Er, yeah, I got them," Draco admitted. "Thanks," he added anxiously, as if he thought that was what she wanted to hear.

"So you've been busy?" she blurted out before she could stop herself.

"Very."

Hermione was suddenly angry at him. "I don't believe you. I've been busy too but I found time to write to you." She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at the coffee table.

"I wanted to focus on my studies." It was true, in a way, he supposed. That she was constantly in his thoughts proved to be very distracting. But his words only caused her frown to deepen, and he sighed, resigning himself to elaborate. "I didn't want to complicate things."

Hermione looked confused, and Draco realized she didn't remember what she had said in those letters, the way she had signed them 'love from, Hermione'. He had agonized over that, wondering if she had just penned them in her haste as a result of habit, or if she truly meant it. In the end, not knowing how to reply, he decided not to. But at this very moment, it seemed she was still waiting for him to explain himself. "I tried to reply, but every attempt seemed wrong somehow. This thing that we have, I didn't want to say something that would change it, because I- I don't think we're ready yet."

Thankfully, she didn't ask him to be more specific as to what 'thing' they had that he was referring to, because he didn't actually know. Some degree of friendship, bordering on more. _He_ wanted more, but didn't know if she did. But perhaps she did, because at his words she seemed to relax, she uncrossed her arms and turned to look at him, a tinge of pink on her cheeks and a small smile on her lips. Relieved, Draco continued. "It was a mistake not replying. Sorry."

For some reason, he didn't mind apologizing to her. Perhaps because he had seen her strengths and weaknesses, and didn't mind exposing some of his own.

Hermione pulled herself together and managed not to give in to the silly smile that was threatening to grow. He'd said just what she wanted most to hear, and what she hadn't allowed herself to think about. He was right, neither of them were ready for another change just yet.

She nodded and looked at him with mock sternness. "Just be sure you reply from now on. Otherwise my next letter will be a howler."

Draco grinned, and was struck by a sudden thought, put into his mind by her mention of howlers.

"Just curious, how are you with red these days?"

"Much improved." She smiled at him slightly. "I think it's the Christmas season- can't avoid red."

"That's good."

They were silent for a while, and Hermione fiddled with the hem of her favorite blue jumper. A thought crossed her mind. "Draco?"

"Yeah?"

"What's your favorite color?"

He smiled at her, and even she couldn't miss the significance behind his look. "Believe it or not, it's red."

Just then, Mrs. Granger called out that lunch was ready, preventing Hermione from replying. They simply looked at each other for a while, and Hermione smiled back at him, understanding. She stood up and held out her hand to Draco, whose eyes had lit up at the prospect of food. Together they went into the kitchen, where they were going to eat.

Mr. Granger joined them a few minutes later, and Hermione felt filled with a warm sense of satisfaction as she glanced at her family. It seemed like everything was back to normal- they were all together, they were all safe, and they were all happy. And with Draco beside her, Hermione couldn't help but feel that life was going to get even better. She smiled happily at her mother, who was hiding a grin- if Mrs. Granger had her way, within a few years they'd be officially welcoming Draco as part of their family.

The End

**A/N: **Hope you enjoyed, please review! 

The request was basically: Post-DH, EWE. Snarky!Draco, angsty with subtle romance, something significant (but not cliche or expected) is the color RED, and happy ending.


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